


Happy birthday, Tina Goldstein

by moonstruckfool



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:59:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckfool/pseuds/moonstruckfool
Summary: A flangsty tribute to our favourite Auror on her special day, in tumblr-post style.





	Happy birthday, Tina Goldstein

On the nineteenth of August, 1907, when Tina turned five, she'd celebrated her birthday surrounded by her family, in their cosy apartment. Mama had baked hazelnut cream with vanilla sponge - her favourite! - and Queenie, barely two years old, blew out the candles before they were halfway through the song. Tina had cried, and so had Queenie, frightened by her sister, but Papa had lit the candles again with a flick of his wand and assured the birthday girl that no, the cake wasn't spoiled, and the candles could be lit again and again (just as long as the wick hadn't burned down), and they'd sang the song again, and Tina blew out the candles. Queenie had asked if they could light them again, and they lit and blew out the candles again and again until all that was left were tiny stumps of wax and the top of the cake was covered in spots of dried wax. Then they'd laughed and cut the cake, Tina insisting on having the piece with her name on it.

When Tina turned five, the Goldsteins were all together, all safe, and all well.

On the nineteenth of August, 1912, when Tina turned ten, she'd sat in the mess hall of the orphanage and tried to feel happy that it was her birthday. The deadly dragon pox had taken Papa and Mama way too young. Queenie had been just six, and herself nine, and it was her first birthday without Papa's booming 'Happy birthday, my Teenie girl' (it'd been several years before she'd figured out the pun, and she'd replied 'But not so teeny anymore' from then on) and Mama's warm hugs. Her first birthday outside the Goldsteins' apartment, her first birthday without Mama's cake and beef stew for dinner. Her first birthday without blowing candles and opening presents. Sensitive as she was even at seven, Queenie had seen (and heard) her brooding, and she'd strode over with purpose, plucked a hairpin from her own head and pinned up her sister's raven-black hair. A birthday present, she'd insisted as Tina protested, pointing out that she hadn't received any, then realised her mistake when the older girl fell silent. The small, blonde girl had crawled into her sister's arms and apologised, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

When Tina turned ten, she'd sat with her sister, the two of them holding each other, wondering what there was for them in the future now that it was just the two of them against the rest of the world. 

On the nineteenth of August, 1917, when Tina turned fifteen, she'd woken up in the Thunderbird dormitory and smiled as she remembered the date. She'd looked at herself in the mirror while braiding her hair, trying to ignore the snide remarks from the other girls about how dull and plain she was, and marvelled at how far she'd come, from a shy, reserved first-year to a new fourth-year, and thought about how proud Papa and Mama would have been. At breakfast, Queenie had come flying towards her as fast as the plate of cheese-stuffed pancakes in her hands would allow and beamed as her sister wolfed it all down, then scowled at the Horned Serpents that had been gossiping about Tina nearby. And Tina had allowed herself to forget about the examinations that were coming, and that the other girls disliked her, and graciously accepted the dashing Arthur Davis' birthday wishes, blushing furiously as she noticed other girls staring enviously and whispering, because no, it wasn't like _that_ \- she'd befriended him because of their shared interest in Defense. 

When Tina turned fifteen, she'd told herself it was okay that she took notes in class, that she didn't do her hair the way the other girls did, and happily went off to lessons, and afterwards spent the day with Queenie.

On the nineteenth of August, 1922, when Tina turned twenty, she'd been on a raid for the Major Investigations Department as part of her Auror training, and hardly remembered that she was a year older. They'd been tracking the smuggling ring for weeks, and finally - finally! - the trainees had been allowed to come along for field experience. She'd nervously followed the Aurors into the dark, damp rooms, and tried to be useful as they snooped around. They'd scolded her for being paranoid,  told her that Auror missions always had an element of danger and that she'd have to get used to it. Then, in an unfortunate twist of events, her instincts had turned out to be right, and the smugglers burst into the room that they were ransacking, wands drawn. For the first time, she'd had to use everything she'd learned in her training, and this time her life (and others') depended on it. She'd stood frozen for a while as she saw the green light of a Killing Curse for the first time, and watched wide-eyed as it hit the wall behind her, narrowly missing her. Then a shout from one of the Aurors had brought her back to her senses, and she'd parried another burst of green light from her attacker's wand with a Stunning spell. Thankfully, they'd gotten away with enough information to make arrests, and no one had been lost, but one of her fellow trainees had been badly hurt by Dark magic, and a few others had been affected by the Cruciatus Curse. She'd stumbled home in shock, haunted by her near miss, wanting to fall into Queenie's arms and cry and cry, just as the blonde had done to her so many times when they were younger, but Queenie was in school, doing her seventh year in Ilvermorny, down in Massachusetts. She'd collapsed on her bed, too tired and miserable to undress, and wrapped a blanket around herself. 

When Tina turned twenty, she'd sobbed her heart out, alone, finally understanding the reality of her dangerous job, mourning the innocence of her childhood, and wished that Queenie was there to comfort her. 

On the nineteenth of August, 1927, when Tina turned twenty-five, she'd come home from a dreary day of paperwork in the office to a feast of beef stew (courtesy of Queenie), Jacob Kowalski's pastries and of course the man himself. Jokes and stories of their childhood had been exchanged and there was laughter all around the table. Halfway through their meal, there'd been a knock on the door. Queenie rushed to open it, and Newt Scamander, windblown hair, coat, case and all, walked into the apartment. The look that had passed between the Englishman and the blonde sold Queenie out. Too astonished to be angry with her scheming sister, Tina had thrown her arms around Newt, who was greatly surprised, but regained his composure with admirable speed, and returned her embrace. When she'd finally released him, he'd cracked a nervous smile, and his soft 'Happy birthday, Tina,' had warmed her from her head to her toes. She'd smiled widely and held his gaze for a bit longer than was considered decent. Queenie had set a place for him at the table and they'd talked and laughed, and Tina pretended not to notice the winks that her sister was giving her as she talked to him. As they finished their food, Newt had opened his case and brought out a book with a beautiful navy-blue cover, handing it to Tina, and she'd remembered his promise to come back with his book when it was published, and beamed from ear to ear. She'd skimmed through the pages of the book, inhaling the heavenly smell of new paper, and congratulated him and thanked him for using the title that she'd suggested. Then her mouth had dropped open as Jacob brought out a birthday cake - hazelnut cream and vanilla sponge with her name piped on in icing, just how Mama used to make it. She'd thanked him and Queenie over and over again as they stuck candles on the cake, two big ones and five small ones, and they'd sang the song, Newt taking a while to work up the courage to sing, and then amazing everyone as his rich tenor voice filled the room. When she'd blown out the candles, Queenie had lit them again, 'just for old times' sake, Teenie' and they'd blown them out again, giggling like schoolgirls as the men watched in bewilderment. And Newt had come up to her shyly and asked her if she would like to go down in the case and visit everyone, and, encouraged by Queenie's nod, she'd readily agreed. And in the midst of feeding and petting all the beasts, she'd caught sight of a picture of her, a cut-out from a newspaper article, really, framed and placed where Leta's picture used to be, and smiled to herself.

When Tina turned twenty-five, she'd looked fondly at the new family she'd found, and felt like she belonged for the first time in years.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> So I just recently realised that Tina's born in 1901, not 1902, but I can't change it or I'd mess this up. I'm so sorry.


End file.
